


the way to you (becomes flowery)

by pizza_netflix_hp (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, both in real life and in this fic!, hansol is unfashionable, hhhhhh for some reason the meanie tag isn't working but yeah there's meanie, jihoon is ? honestly an icon, oh also flowers, seungkwan's a fashion student, this is my first svt fic on here im so nervous hdjdjsksk, umm i really ?? love verkwan like a Lot, verkwan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pizza_netflix_hp
Summary: “I’m not insulting you; I’m just offering advice,” Seungkwan says primly. “But fine. What’s your name?”“Chwe Hansol,” Hansol replies, looking as if he’s stifling a smile. “And you are insulting me. I spent hours looking for that suit.”“I don’t know why you’d do that, seeing as the color is absolutely disgusting,” Seungkwan scoffs.-{or : in which hansol has a terrible fashion sense, seungkwan only wants to offer adviceand check out cute guys in peace, and jihoon is just amused}





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustKeepSwimming36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustKeepSwimming36/gifts).



> title from aju nice, by seventeen

“What the fuck, hyung,” Seungkwan says flatly. Jihoon punches his arm.

“Don’t swear, asshole,” he snaps. “And it’s just one time, come on. It’s not every day that a guy like me gets asked out.” Seungkwan raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve gotten asked out at least four times in the past four weeks.”

“No, but two of those were girls who had, like, a mommy kink or something, and the other dude asked me out with flowers. I literally work at a fucking flower shop,” Jihoon says, looking frustrated despite himself. “You’d think he’d get the hint. Speaking of, are you taking the offer? You get the money because Seungcheol-hyung knows you.”

“I – okay, yeah, but just this once,” he says firmly. “On Friday, right?”

Jihoon splits into a wide grin, and for a moment, he looks like he isn’t an actual incarnation of the devil himself. “Four to seven.”

 

“Honestly, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Seungcheol says, looking mildly anxious. He always looks anxious, and Seungkwan’s not sure if it’s just his face or collegial stress. “Customers pick flowers, bouquets, whatever; you ring it up for them. If they ask for advice on what looks good, we have palettes, but you’re a fashion student, so you should be okay, right?”

“I should be okay,” Seungkwan agrees, mostly to appease Seungcheol. “All right, I think I’m good. You can let me be, and, um, tell Jihoon to go fuck himself.”

“Tell him on your own,” Seungcheol replies, already almost out the door.

Flower shops are relatively uneventful most of the time, Seungkwan realizes when the clock hits six-thirty and the only person that’s dropped in is an old woman getting roses for her daughter. He’s about to take off his disgustingly pink apron and start to tidy up the area when the doorbell jingles.

“Hello and welcome to Shining Diamond Flower Boutique, where we be-leaf in you,” Seungkwan says, the phrase embedded in his mind from when Jihoon repeated it forty times trying to sound cheerful but not artificially so.

“Um, hi,” the boy replies, cheeks slightly red from the weather (it’s March, Seungkwan thinks, it shouldn’t be this damn cold). “Sorry, usually Jihoon’s here at this time; I dunno if you know him –”

“Yeah, he’s the reason I’m here today,” Seungkwan says. “Is there anything you need help with?” The boy stares at him for slightly longer than what’s socially acceptable. Seungkwan isn’t sure whether to be flattered or put off.

“I – no,” the boy says, ducking back into the aisle. He comes back with a single pale yellow corsage. “My mom’s hosting a party for my dad’s new colleagues and she wants us all to look fancy.”

“Wait,” Seungkwan says, voice deathly quiet. The boy looks up. “Does your corsage match your suit?”

“Well, yeah,” he replies. “Is it supposed to not match your suit?”

“Your skin is so ridiculously pale,” Seungkwan begins, “that you’d need a dark color or – at least something a little more vibrant. Also, a pale yellow suit? Where would you even – how would you even find that, what the hell? Pale yellow suits are – that’s almost beige, man, why – oh my god.”

“Okay, first of all,” the boy says, the barest hints of a smile appearing on his features, “if you’re going to insult me, you at least have to know my name.”

“I’m not insulting you; I’m just offering advice,” Seungkwan says primly. “But fine. What’s your name?”

“Chwe Hansol,” Hansol replies, looking as if he’s stifling a smile. “And you are insulting me. I spent hours looking for that suit.”

“I don’t know why you’d do that, seeing as the color is absolutely disgusting,” Seungkwan scoffs. Hansol makes a face almost akin to a pout, and Seungkwan feels the urge to look away for a moment, though he’s not quite sure why.

“Y’know, I prefer Jihoon. He’s nice to me.”

“Really?” Seungkwan asks. Hansol nods. “Weird. Jihoon’s never nice to anyone.” He sighs. “Anyway, please put this carnation back, return the suit, and buy something better before you come back tomorrow. Okay? Thanks.”

“Rude,” Hansol scoffs, though he’s moving back towards the aisles. “And what authority do you have to tell me that my suit choices suck?”

“I’m a fashion student,” Seungkwan replies breezily, sitting back down and opening his book again. He hears Hansol squeak out an _oh_ and smiles to himself.

A few minutes later, Hansol returns, still holding the goddamned yellow carnation. Seungkwan glares at him. “I’m going to trust my gut on this one,” Hansol explains with a charming smile. _Christ,_ Seungkwan thinks, _he’s handsome. This sucks._

“You shouldn’t,” he replies (though he’s tempted to say _you’re fucking hot, oh my god_ ), “but okay.” He rings up the carnation and hands it back to Hansol. “You should drop by here again and tell Jihoon how the whole thing went. If someone at your dinner party passive-aggressively insults your suit, you owe me chocolate.” Hansol raises an eyebrow.

“Chocolate?” he asks, biting his lip. Seungkwan nods.

“A man wants what a man wants,” he says.

“Okay,” Hansol says, and then he laughs. Seungkwan isn’t sure why, but he wants to laugh too. “Okay, sure. It was nice meeting you,” Hansol glances at his name tag, “Seungkwan.”

“I’d say it was nice meeting you too,” Seungkwan replies, “but your fashion sense has scarred me forever.” Hansol snickers as he walks out the door.

 

“Hyung, you'll never believe the guy I saw on your shift,” Seungkwan says loudly. Jihoon raises an eyebrow with a slight smile. Lately, he's almost been glowing, and Seungkwan isn't sure whether to thank his date or be wary.

“I’m sure I will,” Jihoon answers. Seungkwan grits his teeth.

“Okay, so first of all he's annoyingly cute, which would be okay on its own, but he also has the absolute worst taste in clothes out of anyone I’ve ever met.” Jihoon snickers. “What?”

“No, you're talking about Hansol, right?”

“How do you - yeah,” Seungkwan says lamely. “He said you were nice to him, by the way, so he obviously has no idea who you are.”

“I am nice to him,” Jihoon says, scowling. “I'm only mean to you because you're a brat.”

“You're mean to Mingyu, too, and he’s nice.”

“He makes fun of my height–”

“Like _once_ three years ago–”

“And I’ll never forgive him,” Jihoon finishes delicately. “But Hansol came in the other day and said that he owed you chocolate. Something about his dad’s colleague’s wife saying his suit would be lovely if it was a darker color? I don’t know.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan says. He smiles. “Tell him he should bring them in sometime.”

“Preferably with his number, I’m assuming?” Jihoon sighs, moving a bouquet of pink roses to the front.

“No, what – just because I find him mildly attractive–”

“You said, and I quote,” Jihoon begins as he arranges gift cards, “he’s annoyingly cute. That’s not mildly attractive, and besides, wanting someone’s number could be platonic.” Seungkwan glares. “Don’t make that face; I’m just telling you what you said.”

“You didn’t even look at me,” he says, dumbfounded. “How do you know I’m making a face at all – what?” Jihoon just shrugs. “Okay, anyway, if I were to hypothetically ask for Hansol’s number – completely hypothetically, you asshole, stop smiling like that – how do you think he’d react?”

“Probably by making a pun or screaming,” Jihoon replies, closing his eyes for a long moment. “We ran out of tulip seeds yesterday and I forgot to order them, fuck–”

“I don’t care,” Seungkwan huffs. Jihoon slaps his arm. “Ow, don’t kill me. What do you mean by screaming?”

“I mean emitting a high-pitched and loud noise. And I’m not going to kill you; stop being a drama queen.”

“No, but why would he scream?” Seungkwan asks. “He seemed pretty calm when we talked the other day.” Jihoon snorts. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, slightly quickly. Seungkwan isn’t sure whether it’s because he’s lying or just because that’s a speech pattern of his. (Jihoon does that, sometimes – he starts to speak faster because he’s thinking of forty things at once and if he doesn’t say them all he’ll explode. It’s something that Seungkwan would only pick up on by being his friend for several years, and he’s damn proud of it.)

“Okay,” Seungkwan replies simply. “I’m going to leave. When Hansol does drop in the chocolates, you should maybe give him my number. Only for platonic purposes, of course.” Jihoon grins.

“Sure. Only for platonic purposes.” There’s something in the tone of his voice that makes Seungkwan absolutely sure he’s going to be endlessly made fun of for the next few years, and he instantly regrets all his life decisions. _Forget being proud of picking up on Jihoon’s fucking habits,_ he thinks, frustrated, _I’ll be proud of murdering him soon._


	2. Chapter 2

“You look like a hooligan when you stand like that,” Seungcheol says almost absentmindedly as he sets up the counter. Seungkwan snorts. “What?”

“Hooligan,” Seungkwan repeats. Seungcheol glares at him, but it's the type of glare with no anger behind it.

“It's a respectable term,” he replies. “And you do. I feel like you're going to knock over all the flowers or spray paint the wall or something.” Seungkwan stops leaning on the wall and sits on a chair instead, hands entwined primly over his crossed legs.

“Is that better?” he asks, semi-sarcastically. Seungcheol shakes his head.

“Now you look like one of those preppy kids who’s going to have his uncle sue the store because he’s allergic to flowers.” Seungkwan stares at him.

“That’s oddly specific.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” Seungcheol replies, shrugging. “I mean, the case got dropped because it was completely ridiculous, but it’s happened. My dad was going insane. It would’ve been hilarious, but I had midterms, so I was already upset, and–” His (admittedly interesting) tale is interrupted by the bell ringing, and both he and Seungkwan straighten their posture.

“Oh. Hi again,” Hansol says. He tilts his head, once again staring at Seungkwan for slightly longer than what’s socially acceptable. “I brought the chocolate.” Seungkwan glances at the large purple bag currently in Hansol’s hands. The way he’s clutching them reminds Seungkwan of an anxious schoolboy, and it’s a little adorable.

“I can see that,” he replies carefully. It’s only then that he notices the man standing next to Hansol.

“Oh! You’re Jeonghan, right?” Seungcheol asks, much louder than necessary. “I think we went to the same concert a few times. The singer brought you up onstage because you showed up so much?”

“And because I was his boyfriend,” Jeonghan coughs, “but yeah.”

“Cool! Let’s talk about your singing boyfriend somewhere else,” Seungcheol says. “Like in the storage room! Far away from here.” Jeonghan throws Hansol a slightly terrified look as he’s dragged away, and Hansol just shrugs.

“So,” Hansol clears his throat, “my dad’s colleague’s daughter’s eighteenth birthday is in two weeks, and because her family is ridiculously rich, they’re having a ball.” He spits out the words like they’re poison, and Seungkwan raises an eyebrow.

“Are you not a fan of the family?”

“Not a fan of balls,” Hansol answers, brows furrowed. “Anyway, I figured I should ask since I obviously know nothing about fashion–”

“And I’m a fashion god, I know,” Seungkwan answers airily. Hansol makes a noise that resembles a fraction of a laugh. “Wear a suit, but a dark one, Jesus, just – black would look great.” He stares at Hansol for a minute, trying to work out what would look best (and maybe he’s checking him out a little, too, but that’s no one’s business but his own). “Vibrant colors? Like, darkly vibrant. If you wanted to go bold, magenta would look great, but otherwise, I’d recommend black or something of the like, especially if you don’t want to draw attention.”

“Okay,” Hansol breathes, not bothering to hold back a beam.

“Okay,” Seungkwan replies, only a little mockingly.

“He also wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out sometime,” Jeonghan calls from the storage room. “Like, possibly at a certain café a few of our friends work at. That would be cool.”

“Hyung, you _asshole_ –” Hansol begins, glaring when Seungkwan stifles a giggle. “Um. Yeah, would you want to hang out sometime? Possibly at a café a few of _my_ friends – they’re all disowning Jeonghan-hyung after this–”

“They’ll applaud me,” Jeonghan interrupts, now sitting on the counter. He meekly slides off when Seungcheol stares at him.

“Anyway – what he said,” Hansol finishes lamely.

“That sounds,” Seungkwan pauses, “cool. Yeah. Um, what’s the name of the shop?”

“Espresso Patronum,” Jeonghan says, the corner of his lip twitching. “My friend bought it from some old guy, and he’s a nerd. Hansol helped him name it.”

“Oh my god,” Seungkwan says. He rakes a hand through his hair. “Oh my _god_.”

“That’s, um, not something I usually like to tell people,” Hansol says, shooting Jeonghan a cutting glare. “And it makes sense. Wonwoo-hyung made the whole thing Harry Potter themed; it’s super cool. I mean – if you’re into that sort of thing. Which I’m not. Obviously, because I’m not a nerd.”

“Of course,” Seungkwan replies. “Um, around when are you usually there?”

“He never leaves,” Jeonghan says, ignoring Hansol’s enraged screech. “So feel free to drop in anytime.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Seungkwan says with a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Jeonghan-ssi. And nice seeing you, too, even though you,” he snickers, “named a store Espresso Patronum.”

“It’s _cool_ ,” Hansol insists. Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

 

Seungkwan finds himself outside Espresso Patronum only a few days later, accompanied by Jihoon and his new boyfriend, Soonyoung. (“Oh, the coffee shop?” Jihoon had asked, looking up from a book. “I think Soonyoung knows a guy who works there; we can show you the way.”) He’s eager to get inside despite the various Harry Potter-themed decorations because Jihoon and Soonyoung are being disgustingly adorable.

The interior is, no matter how much Seungkwan would like to deny it, incredibly cool. Its walls are lined with books, a fair few from the Harry Potter series or its extensions, and the lamps are decorated to look like candles. The employees are all wearing ties the colors of their respective houses, and all of them look strangely bright.

“Hansol!” Seungkwan calls. Hansol looks over from his table, wearing a red and gold beanie. “Do you work here?”

“I – um – of course not; this is a nerdy place for nerds – why would I ever be – uh–”

“He does,” a strangely deep voice calls. “I’m Wonwoo; I’m the owner of this shop. Hansol, stop acting like you’re cooler than you are. Soonyoung, it’s good to see you with the boyfriend.” Soonyoung waves cheerily as Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “He talks about you a lot,” Wonwoo explains, and Soonyoung lets out a tiny shriek as Hansol snickers.

“Wait,” Seungkwan says slowly. “Do all of you know each other? Because – Seungcheol-hyung knows Jeonghan-ssi, and Jihoon-hyung knows Soonyoung-hyung who knows you, apparently, and – are you guys all in some sort of cool in-group and I had no idea?”

“Oh, Seungcheol-ssi!” Wonwoo says excitedly. “He comes to my shows sometimes!” Seungkwan glares at the floor.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t know anyone other than Jeonghan-hyung and Wonwoo-hyung,” Hansol says. Seungkwan considers it before answering.

“It does,” he says. “Thank you.” He looks around, trying his best to drink in the surroundings. “This is – really nice, honestly.” Hansol beams, and for a second, Seungkwan almost says something cheesy about looking at the sun, but he refrains at the last moment.

“He helped decorate it,” Wonwoo explains, looking simultaneously proud and exasperated.

“I thought you weren’t into nerdy stuff like that,” Seungkwan says, fighting off a smile. _Why am I being so cool?_ he wonders. _I’m never this cool. What the fuck?_

Jihoon seems to be thinking the same thing, and he opens his mouth, looking as if he’s about to say something. “I–” He pauses. “You know what? Never mind.”

“Once I’ve been exposed, I can’t deny it anymore,” Hansol replies to Seungkwan, grin widening. “Anyway,” he jerks his head toward an empty table on the other side of the room, “do you wanna go over there? Away from – them?”

“Rude,” Jeonghan says, ruffling Hansol’s hair and smiling when Hansol scowls at him.

“Yeah, sure,” Seungkwan agrees, striding towards the table (mostly because he’s afraid Jihoon, whose grin is growing by the minute, is going to say something incredibly embarrassing if he doesn’t get away quickly enough).

“So,” Hansol breathes. “Our friends suck.” Seungkwan feels a jolt of – he’s not quite sure what, but a jolt of something – at Hansol’s casual use of ‘our’.

“They do,” he agrees genially. “Your rapping nerd friend – Wonwoo-ssi? – he seems cool, though.”

“He’s the worst of them all,” Hansol says darkly. “Him and Minghao-hyung.”

“They can’t be worse than Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan brushes off. “No one’s worse than him.”

“You’d be surprised,” Hansol replies. “And Jihoon-hyung doesn’t seem like the type to be awful. Like I said, he’s always nice to me.”

“Because you’ve never made fun of him,” Seungkwan explains. “Once you do it one time, you’re screwed. I mean, Mingyu-hyung–”

“Mingyu-hyung,” Hansol interrupts, tilting his head inquisitively. The way he’s looking at Seungkwan makes him turn red despite himself. “Weird. Wonwoo-hyung’s boyfriend is named Mingyu. I’ve never met him, though.”

“Weird,” Seungkwan agrees. “What if they’re the same person?” They stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“That would be the weirdest fucking thing,” Hansol snickers. He looks like the type of person whom swearing would suit, but somehow, it doesn’t. “So what’s the fashion student life like?” Seungkwan shrugs.

“It’s cool,” he says. “I mean, designing is cool, and like, everyone there is either gay, emo, or someone who’s living on solely espresso shots at this point. I’m the third, obviously.” _And the first, Seungkwan, you’re fucking gay. Why aren’t you saying that? You’re fucking gay._

“I’m sure there are some people that are all three,” Hansol says, looking away for a second. “I mean, Wonwoo-hyung’s all three, and he’s not even a fashion student.”

“Really?” Seungkwan asks. “He seems cool, though.” He pauses. “Wait, I already said that. This conversation is cancelled; I have to leave now.” Hansol giggles (giggles! Seungkwan didn’t know he could be gayer, but here he is) and stands up.

“I should get you a coffee,” he says, “since this is a café and all. Or are you not much of a coffee person?”

“I live on solely espresso shots,” Seungkwan repeats. “Um, could I have the Caterwauling Cappuccino?” Hansol wrinkles his nose.

“That one’s mostly sugar,” he warns, and Seungkwan offers a small, tight grin.

“Perfect. I love sweet things.”

“Well, y’know, some people say I’m pretty sweet,” Hansol says before immediately turning red. “Um – shit – I mean – uh, I’ll get your coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school's starting tomorrow for me and im ready to hurl myself off a cliff :))  
> also spotify took off almost every bts song so i'm mad at that too  
> basically writing this fic is the only thing that gives me joy hAHAHA (im just kidding dont worry hsfjdsj)
> 
> i'm not sure about how fast fics get reads or kudos here, because i mostly write bts fic, but this got 50 kudos within one chapter, which is pretty awesome ??? thank you???  
> credits to 'espresso patronum' and 'caterwauling cappuccino' go to @justkeepswimming36 aka the biggest harry potter nerd i know after myself and hansol  
> (seriously tho im like a huge harry potter nerd like my main blog on tumblr ? literally dedicated to harry potter it's Yikes)
> 
> anyway !!! contact me on my [tumblr](https://rosejihoon.tumblr.com) or my [twitter!](https://twitter.com/pastelverkwan)  
> or just leave a comment here if you want!! thank you for reading and have a lovely day/night!!

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh so i hope you liked that!! more is coming soon ; i promise this'll get progressively horrifically fluffier as time goes by because what else do my fics ever do?
> 
> thanks to @tasty-taetae n @blushao (on tumblr!) for reading over my trash writing n editing
> 
> if you want to talk to me, contact my on my tumblr : rosejihoon  
> or my twitter : pastelverkwan!!  
> or just leave a comment if you want more or something i just really like talking to people shdjdj
> 
> unrelated to the fic but jihoon's red hair??? i cried im so in love w him someone pls help me
> 
> thank you for reading !!!


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